Chapter Five
Keston
I had a need for speed that night. To escape the walls closing in on me.
Along with the apartment, Carlos had left me his Harley. And though I rarely took it out, there I was, zipping up FDR Drive, then across town to Bailey’s apartment. I’d had a shitty week, and seeing Bailey would put me in a better mood.
It didn’t look like he was of the same mindset, though, as he slowly walked down the steps of the brownstone to meet me on the sidewalk.
“A motorcycle?” He eyed it with suspicion. “What do you expect me to do with that?”
I tossed him a helmet, and he caught it reflexively. “You? Nothing. I do the driving. You just have to hold on.”
“Guys like me don’t ride on motorcycles,” he muttered. “I think that’s the Eleventh Commandment. Thou shalt not do stupid things that can cause broken bones.”
“Don’t worry, Grandma. You’ll be fine.”
All week a dark fog suffocated me, things beyond my control filling me with self-doubt, feeling like that worthless kid again.
It had put me in a funk that had me snapping at people like Jodi, which in turn had made me angry at myself because she was innocent and just happened to be in the way of my nasty mood.
All that ugliness lifted at the sight of Bailey’s outraged face. Damn, he was cute. And just the person I needed to wash away the shame of my bad behavior. I straddled the bike.
“Come on.”
He slid onto the seat behind me and gingerly put his arms around my waist. I started the bike, and he jumped and tightened his hold.
“I am so gonna kill you if I get killed,” he shouted in my ear as I traveled toward the park. I grinned.
“You’re gonna love it.”
He remained quiet until we got on the West Side highway. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace I know.”
“Thanks for narrowing that down.”
The sun had begun its descent, and the city lights brightened the sky above the Hudson River. I could feel Bailey’s warmth through his jacket and his breath on my neck. It was only a short ride to Fort Tryon Park, and I pulled into a parking spot by Margaret Corbin Circle and cut the motor.
“This is it.” I slid off the bike and pulled off my helmet, and Bailey did the same.
“Where is ‘this’?” He craned his neck. “I have no idea where we are.”
“Not that uptown, are you, City Boy? Haven’t you ever been to the Cloisters? It’s in here—Fort Tryon Park. Let’s go this way.” When I realized he wasn’t at my side, I stopped. “What’s wrong?” I retraced my steps to where he remained.
“Why am I here?” Bailey asked, jaw resolute.
After our dinner earlier that week, after Bailey had deliberately pushed my buttons to get me to talk, I’d decided to forget him.
I had no desire to bare my soul—I was only interested in getting naked.
I’d avoided relationships for exactly that reason.
I’d been fine on my own, and I was satisfied.
It didn’t mean anything that on a particularly stressful day, I’d reached for my phone to text Bailey to see if he wanted to get together.
Halfway through, though, I’d remembered he wasn’t interested in ending up in bed with me, so I’d deleted the message and gone home, alone and frustrated.
Then I’d started getting my income and expenses together for quarterly taxes, and the decline in the shop’s take was worrying.
Jodi’s clients had kept us busy initially, but that had slowed significantly during the year.
I’d never had to rely on marketing or advertising—word of mouth had always been enough.
But numbers didn’t lie, and I needed to figure out something because I didn’t want to have to lay anyone off.
Ambrose had been with me since the beginning, and Jodi was a single mom with two kids and depended on her income from here, as her piece of shit ex had bailed when their second kid had been diagnosed with autism.
I had no one to talk to about my fears. If I confided in Ambrose, he’d think I was hinting he might be on the way out.
And I wouldn’t tell Grady. I couldn’t. He was so damn smart and such a success, I didn’t want him to think less of me.
Be the brother who couldn’t make it. Carlos had run the shop with no problems, all on his own, and had entrusted me with its legacy.
Bailey might understand, but still I hesitated. I loved having sex with him, and he was funny as hell to talk to, but I didn’t want him to think we were getting close.
And yet…I couldn’t help thinking he was the one I needed, so instead of calling or texting and risking him blowing me off, I’d decided to take a chance and simply show up at his place.
“I-I’d like to talk to you. I need some advice.”
“Oh.” Obviously, he hadn’t expected that, and immediate concern rose in his eyes. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
We walked through the parking lot and sat on a low rock wall.
A smattering of stars lay like one of those diamond necklaces against a black velvet background, and we could hear the whoosh of cars on the highway.
Lights from across the Hudson glowed, shimmering hazily on the surface of the water.
All the people in those buildings, living their lives, never knowing we were out there, hanging by a thread. Maybe they were as well.
“It’s the shop. I’m getting close to running at a loss for the first time, and I don’t know what to do about it.” A nervous sweat broke out on my brow.
“How bad?”
“Not terrible yet, but I’m afraid if I don’t stop the bleeding, I’m gonna have to fire someone, and I…can’t.”
Saying the words broke me, and Bailey put his hand over mine. “I’m sorry. Really. Tell me the details.”
I pulled up the info on my phone and explained. He listened carefully and took some notes on his. When I was finished, he frowned.
“What’s your advertising budget? Do you run specials or do anything to entice customers?”
“I’ve never had to.” The thought made my stomach hurt. “Do you think it can help?”
“Sometimes, but it’s not a cure-all. The economy ebbs and flows, and the ones who play it smart are the ones able to ride it out and stay successful. We have to learn to roll with it or go under. The city is a jungle, eat or be eaten.”
“That’s for damn sure,” I muttered.
“Here’s what I’d do. Run a new-client special to start. Get friendly with the local merchants, especially the ones you frequent, like the neighborhood coffee shop and sushi restaurant, and ask if they’d be willing to have your cards in their places in exchange for you having their menus in yours.”
“Do you think that can help?” I was willing to try anything to keep us running. “People have been coming to me for years, but now I’m only getting a trickle of new clients.”
Bailey thought for a moment. “You know, sometimes you’re around for so long, you become part of the landscape and people almost forget you’re there. They pass by your shop but don’t see you.”
Unfortunately, that made sense.
He gave my hand a comforting squeeze. “Don’t be so worried. We can work on it. Today the world is driven by social media, especially businesses concentrating on artistic expression. Do you know anyone who could do it for you?”
“Between Jodi, Ambrose, and me, we can figure it out, I bet.”
“I’m surprised you don’t already have an Instagram or some online presence.
It’s made for creatives like yourself. But you’re definitely not too late.
Set up an Instagram account and put your best designs on there.
Mention the new-client special—I have no idea how much a tattoo costs.
What is it, twenty or thirty bucks on average for a small one? ”
Instead of being insulted, I busted out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”
Seeming a little lost, Bailey lifted a shoulder. “What? Too little? What the hell do I know?” He pulled up his jacket and sweater sleeve. “Remember? Virgin skin.”
I eyed the swirls of hair on his forearm and the thin, blue-green lines of his veins. My mouth dried, and I forced my gaze away, looking anywhere but at him.
“A basic tattoo, the smallest, is a hundred. A full sleeve can run into the thousands for the work, plus I charge for my time.” As I spoke, Bailey’s eyes grew wide.
“Jesus. I’m in the wrong profession,” he joked. “I had no idea.”
“Yeah, well, there’s the drawing of the piece, the transfer to the skin, then the needlework and filling in the color.
It’s intense, precise work that can’t be rushed.
” Maybe I sounded defensive, but I wanted him to understand that although I might not’ve gone to college, I was still smart and capable.
“I know.” His eyes—filled with questions—met mine.
“If you think I’m doubting you, you’re wrong.
I have complete faith in your abilities.
I saw the photos of your art in the shop.
You’re extremely talented and smart as hell.
” A smile tugged up the corners of his lips.
“After all, you’re here with me. And I’m a catch. ”
I had no response, and despite the coolness of the air, we sat for a while, the sky darkening above us. On occasion, other people would walk by, their conversations muted, but they left us alone and found their own spots.
Still holding my hand, Bailey turned it to expose my wrist and the small heart. “I noticed this the first time we were together. What does it say inside? The writing’s so tiny, I can’t make it out.”
No one had ever asked me. I tried to keep it hidden, and it was small enough to be barely noticeable. But Bailey had, and now he waited, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes.
“It says ‘Me.’ Carlos did it on my eighteenth birthday.”
Bailey’s fingers slid upward to trace the outline. “You finally loved yourself,” he murmured, shocking me with his insight.
We sat staring at each other until the scream of fire-engine sirens broke the peace of the night.
“You’ve never been here?”
Bailey shook his head.
“No. The farthest I’ve been uptown is Columbia for something law-related. And of course, the Bronx Zoo, but I haven’t been there in years.”
“Carlos was from here.” I had no idea why I shared that with Bailey.
“He taught me everything about tattooing and the business. He was murdered by some punks while walking to the bank to deposit cash. I told him to wait and we’d do it together, that it wasn’t safe to walk alone with that much money, but he laughed at me and said I was acting like an old lady. ”
Bailey pressed his leg to mine, the warmth from his skin a balm to my frozen heart. “I’m so sorry. Did they ever catch them?”
I nodded, lost in the past. “The next day. Dumbasses used his credit cards.” Bailey’s hand on my knee hurt because for the first time, my heart wasn’t bleeding with pain but pounding with the need to be held and comforted, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. “What I am today is because of him. He left me the shop, his apartment…everything. His family kicked him out years earlier when he told them he was gay. He said I was his family.”
“And you loved him.”
I felt the weight of his eyes on me and met his gaze. “Yeah.”
“You were lucky to have him.”
“I know. I can’t let him down.”
“You haven’t, and you won’t. From what I’ve seen, you’ve done an amazing job keeping the shop in business.
And busy. This is probably a minor blip, and if you get past it, you’ll be fine.
” He chewed his lip. “If you need my help with anything, I’m more than happy to lend a hand.
Like I said, your talent is obvious, and I’m not saying that simply to get you to come home with me. ”
“Is that an offer?”
Bailey’s teeth flashed white. “Are you accepting? If you say yes, that’s a contract and I can force compliance.”
I leaned in close. “You wouldn’t have to force me.” I was ready to give this man anything he wanted.
A slow smile crept across his face, and I pulled out the keys to the Harley. “Ready?”
He held out his hand, and I took it. Bailey’s fingers twined with mine, and it was nice to hold someone’s hand again. I wasn’t one for PDA, but Carlos had been the demonstrative type and used to tease me that he wanted to show off he had a young, hot boyfriend.
We walked back to the bike, put on our helmets, and this time, he pressed up against me and hugged my waist nice and tight. It was a swift ride to his place, and I eased up in front and cut the engine. He got off, but I remained in the seat.
“You got used to the bike pretty quickly.”
He held on to the helmet. “Yeah. I was scared at first, but then it was kind of a thrill.” He dangled his house keys. “Can I interest you in another kind of thrill ride?”
I slid off the Harley and followed him up the stairs, my desire increasing with each passing step.
I’d barely entered his apartment before he took my mouth in a bruising kiss.
His tongue and lips were everywhere, licking and sucking, his breath hot and heavy.
I ran my hands over his body, touching him everywhere, and pushed the jacket off his shoulders.
I shrugged out of my jacket and sweater, leaving them in a heap on the floor.
“It hurt riding with a hard-on,” he whispered and bit my earlobe, sending a jolt through me. I cupped his bulge.
“I’m ready to ride you. Let’s go.”
Our clothes came off, landing in all directions, and I devoured his naked body as he stood in front of me. He palmed my dick, and I groaned at the touch, precome slipping through his fingers.
“Fuck me, Keston. I need this.”
“On the bed,” I ordered, but first he got out the lube and condoms. I coated my fingers and pistoned them into his quivering hole, stretching him.
The wild noises coming from Bailey were almost enough to make me shoot my load, but I gritted my teeth and withdrew to roll the condom down my shaft.
As desperate as I was to have him, I couldn’t begin without kissing the soft skin where the base of his spine dipped and rose to the plump, smooth globes.
I spread his cheeks and sank into his waiting body.
“Oh God,” Bailey moaned. “Harder, harder,” he demanded, and I complied, my fingers digging into his hips as I thrust deep and buried myself in his white-hot passage. Lust consumed me, and I was catapulted into a swirling abyss of hungry need.
My head spun and my heart thundered as Bailey swallowed me into his body, and I shattered as he squeezed my throbbing cock. We collapsed on the bed, my sweaty body plastered to his.
“Don’t leave,” Bailey mumbled, and I smiled against his neck.
“I don’t think I can move.”
The scary thing was, even if I could, I didn’t want to.